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All Good Things(21)

By:Alannah Carbonneau


I'd gone to see her with the intention of luring her to a bed. Any bed. I'd fully believed, before seeing her, if I could just get inside of her...just once, I would be able to move on without continuously being haunted by her. But, the moment I walked into that damn shop of hers, I'd been floored with the realization, I would never get her out of my system. She was not that kind of girl. As a matter of fact, I was beginning to think she was a species of woman that didn't exist in the masses.

"Shit," I rubbed my forehead as I rolled into the underground parking of Rush Industries.

The only way to access the building at this hour was through the underground garage. It was restricted and only a handful of people had access through their key card and punch code. Security had always been exceedingly important to me. I employed twenty-four hour surveillance, although, I had never been one to enjoy the idea of having another person glued to my hip, the way my father had. Some believe it is foolish that I do not have a bodyguard, but I've never felt the need.

I threw the Bugatti into park and stepped onto the concrete. The lights were bright and I couldn't wait to get up to the top floor where my office resided. My office was my sanctuary. If I wanted, I could live there, and for the most part, I was so busy, that I did.

I swiped my key card at the elevator and waited as the private elevator, reserved for staff on the top floor began its descent. The doors chimed as they opened and I stepped into the pale green and stainless steel box. I wouldn't have chosen green for the elevator myself, but I hadn't been the one to build Rush Industries. I had taken over the company when my father died. I'd always expected the responsibility would fall onto my shoulders someday and I had prepared myself to the best of my ability. My father had always made it clear. I had been born with a title that held expectations. When a guy had that drilled into him, everyday from birth, he started to believe it.

When the elevator slowed to a stop, the doors slid open and I stepped out. There was no one at the front desk to greet me, so I took a moment to appreciate what was mine. I'd remodeled the top floor a year after my father passed. I couldn't handle feeling his stuffy personality everyday.

A large, round white, lily-gloss desk sat in the center of the room, facing the elevators. The floor was made of black granite that, in the light, appeared to hold flecks of silver-gold. On the curved, raised surface of the desk, white vases were filled with real white lilies and long green stems. The desktop computers were a sleek, shiny silver and the chairs were white leather. The walls had been painted barley beige. I didn't understand why the color had that name, because it was not beige at all. It possessed a slight glow and appeared to be a cross between gray and white. It was an elegant, clean reception area that would make anyone feel sophisticated and welcomed. On my way to my office, I passed a waiting area furnished with white leather furniture, a white glass coffee table with vibrant green accents.

With a sigh of relief, I stepped into the peace of my office. I closed the smoked glass doors and walked across the black marble floor, past the black leather couch set to the large desk. It sat possessively before an entire wall of windows. My office reflected the way I saw myself entirely. Whereas Caleb liked everything white and pristine, I preferred my space dark. I often envied Caleb his ability to shrug anything, and everything, off without a second thought. If I had that ability, I wouldn't be trying to ignore the image of Olivia that danced in the back of my mind, demanding precedence over any other thought.

I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my black slacks and leaned against the desk to look out at the New York night. I was fully aware Olivia was livid with me for leaving her the way I did, but I couldn't take her as planned. I hadn't thought her to be as innocent as she was, but after kissing her, it had become obvious she was inexperienced. I doubted she was a virgin or anything. Someone as beautiful as her would not have made it through college without the vultures pouncing, but she was innocent enough to have never been used. Or, I hoped she had never been used, and if she had, well, I would kill him.

I groaned aloud at the track my thoughts had taken and tried desperately to ignore the bulge that demanded release in my pants as I remembered kissing her. Fuck, she was sweet. I had a taste and I didn't think I could go on without taking another...and another...and another. I was ruined.

What the hell was I supposed to do? I turned her on and kissed her until she was aching with need, so potent, I could see it in her brown eyes before I left her. She would never forgive me. I had a tickling suspicion Olivia was not the kind of girl I could send my personal shopper to her door at eight am and make it all better. I doubted she was the kind of girl I could just buy forgiveness from...but she had liked my car.